


Find Me

by fantasyseal



Series: Magical Boys [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe- Magic, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Suga Has A Lot of Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasyseal/pseuds/fantasyseal
Summary: When Suga and Daichi both really want to invent time travel so they can go yell at their middle-school selves.Magical Boys AU: Part 3: Daisuga Edition! (Pretty standalone; everything you need to know is explained in the fic!) (Rated T for language; otherwise totally SFW.)





	

Magic isn’t real; Suga had learned that at the age of eight, when he’d found a dead tree branch with one tiny pink flower on the end and thought it was a magic wand.

But then Hinata had caught on fire in front of him, and Kageyama had thrown a volleyball at his head, of all reactions, like it was _normal._ Sugawara had been busy trying to find the fire extinguisher when Daichi had caught his collar and pointed him toward Hinata, who was perfectly normal, so long as you consider glowing hair and a uniform that is absolutely _not_ regulation ‘normal’.

And of course he and Kageyama had immediately started fighting, which is normal, actually. Sugawara and Daichi had cornered them after the match, but they hadn’t gotten much out of the first-year pair and hadn’t understood a word of what they did get them to explain. They both apologize a thousand times, and when Suga asks what exactly happened, Hinata looks down at his shoes and Kageyama mutters that it’s not important.

When Nishinoya and Asahi do it, too, Daichi pulls all four of them firmly aside and sits them on the bench and folds his arms. “I don’t care _who_ explains this to me,” he says, “but _one_ of you is going to. Clear?”

“Yes, Daichi-san,” Hinata and Kageyama chorus instantly; Nishinoya and Asahi just nod, and Nishinoya clears his throat.

“How much did those two explain to you?” he asks, pointing to the first-year duo.

“Nothing,” Hinata says, pulling a face. “We were still figuring it out…”

Nishinoya nods and inhales; Suga recognizes the signs of a Nishinoya who has, for once, been given permission to go into hurricane mode (not that the lack of permission usually stops him). “Okay, so, basically, we’re super badass and magic and there’s four of us, me and Asahi are one team and those two are the other team, and we take turns protecting the area, and that’s about it any questions?”

“ _Lots,_ ” Suga and Daichi chorus; Daichi’s obviously processing, so Suga takes over from there.

“Protecting the area from what?” All four of them get identical ‘huh?’ expressions at that, and Suga stares. “You don’t _know?"_

“Smoke monsters,” Nishinoya offers helpfully.

Suga drops his head into his hands, for lack of anything better to do. “You’ve been fighting monsters and you don’t even know if they’re bad or not?”

“They are!” Hinata cuts in. “I met Yoru…uh, Kageyama…when I was trying to keep one from getting into his house.”

“And I met Asahi-san when…” Nishinoya turns bright red and doesn’t finish his sentence.

“When one of them came after me and he tried to save me and didn’t aim all that well,” Asahi says, grimacing.

Daichi laughs at that, a real laugh that takes him a full minute to get back under control, and Suga has to hide a smile too.

“I didn’t _try_ anything,” Nishinoya protests. “I _did_ save Asahi-san!”

“You just also nearly gave me a concussion,” Asahi says, smiling down at the indignant libero. “And knocked me out.”

“I think we’re getting off topic,” Daichi says. “Let’s assume, for the moment, that you’re right and the monsters are bad. Why are you transforming in the middle of games?”

**_I think I can help with that._ **

Daichi and Suga jump a mile into the air at the disembodied voice, and Nishinoya snorts. “Where have you been?”

**_Sorry, it’s difficult to talk to them. Much more so than any of you._ **

“What,” Suga manages, “is _that?_ ”

“They’re a ‘who’,” Hinata says. “That’s the Voice.”

“It’s a voice, yes, but who _is_ it?” Suga asks, looking around. (It sounds vaguely familiar, but it’s so _echoey_ that it’s hard for him to place.)

“No,” Kageyama says, startling Suga again (he’s been so quiet). “He means, their name is the Voice. They’re sort of our version of Kiyoko-san.”

“Of course,” Daichi says. “You don’t know what you’re fighting, and you’re taking orders from a disembodied voice.”

 ** _I understand your concern_** (Suga makes a concerted effort to avoid jumping again) ** _, but I assure you that I mean no harm toward these four. To answer your question, Sawamura-san, that shouldn’t happen again. Taiyo and Yoru triggered their transformation because Taiyo rebuilt his broken bond to his magic…well, essentially through sheer stubbornness. East and West triggered theirs because they haven’t been fighting together, and acknowledged each other as a team again. Under normal circumstances, transformation is strictly voluntary. Teenage boys just have a habit of not being under normal circumstances._**

“That’s…helpful,” Suga decides. “I have more questions.”

**_I can try to answer them._ **

“Bond?” Daichi asks, raising his eyebrows at the four in front of them. “Bond with what, exactly?”

“Oh,” Hinata says, and fishes in his pocket for something. “That’s this. It’s a representation of us, sort of? The Voice says they don’t always look like this, but Asahi-san’s and Noya-senpai’s and Kageyama’s do ‘cause volleyball’s really important to all of us.” He holds out a little gold pin to Suga in the shape of a volleyball; it’s the red-and-green striped kind, Suga can tell from the outlined stripe pattern.

Suga forgets how to breathe, and from the expression on Daichi's face, he’s pretty sure Daichi’s having the same problem. Hinata frowns, looking at them. “Suga-san? Daichi-san?”

 ** _Ah,_** the Voice says. **_I’m sorry, you two._**

“Um,” Suga manages. _Wow, there’s effective communication for you…_

“Um?” Hinata repeats, tilting his head to the side. He turns to Asahi and Nishinoya for help, mouthing _I think I broke them._

“Suga, Daichi,” Asahi says, laughing. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but…”

“That pin,” Daichi says, looking directly at Hinata. “Why would someone who isn’t a magical boy have it?”

Hinata blinks. “Um,” he says, and then “Wait, you guys have pins?”

 ** _It’s okay, Taiyo,_** the Voice says, **_I’ll explain. It’s common for relatives of magical boys to receive their pins; the link dissolves once the former wielder heads to university, and the pin looks for someone else. It simply means you have the potential to become a magical boy, and that someone related to you was at some point. That’s all._**

“Ooooh, I didn’t know that,” Hinata murmurs. “Wait, does that mean Natsu could get mine?”

“Oh.” Now Suga feels silly, thinking of the pin in his pocket. “Thank you.”

They keep talking about the four’s lives as magical boys; should they be concerned for their safety, how often exactly do they fight, are Hinata and Kageyama okay, a scolding for Asahi and Nishinoya (“you just _left_ the other team on their own?”), and the Voice’s occasional interjection. It’s dark before they head for home, Hinata laughing and assuring Suga he’ll be fine getting over the mountain.

Suga literally falls into his bed, not bothering to shower; it’s been a _long_ day, and he’s tired, and they probably have to explain all this to Takeda-sensei and Coach Ukai tomorrow. Not to mention, they have another Coach Ukai, and if he’s anything like his grandfather, practice tomorrow is going to be alternately trying not to collapse and keeping an eye on their ridiculous first-years to make sure _they_ aren’t about to collapse.

_He knows the moment he sets it that his toss is off._

_Daichi jumps for it anyway, slamming the ball down onto a shadowy thing Suga doesn’t have a name for, making up for Suga’s toss. The monster poofs into a cloud of smoke, and Suga lets out a cheer in the split second between Daichi’s spike and his landing._

_He can see Daichi’s foot twist under him as he lands, and Daichi falls over with a pained yell; Suga races over to him. “Are you okay?”_

_“I’m fine,” Daichi says, giving him a reassuring smile. “Let me just…” He uses Suga’s shoulder to pull himself up, and the second he tries to bear weight on his ankle, he falls back over._

_“Daichi,” Suga says, crouching down._

_“I think I twisted it,” Daichi says, probing his ankle with a grimace. “Help me up?”_

_“Of course,” and Suga supports him the whole way back. It’s a slow trip on foot; Daichi’s house is only slightly closer to their current location than Suga’s, and it’s made slower both by Daichi’s one functioning foot and Suga’s insistence on stepping carefully._

It’s my fault, _Suga thinks, as Daichi manages another hop forward._ It’s my fault, I set it to the wrong place, and I’ve hurt Daichi.

Suga’s alarm blares in his ears, and he jolts awake, fumbling for the tiny gold pin that he keeps on his nightstand, trying to remember how to breathe.

There it is; Suga clutches it as tight as he can. _Just related to a magical boy somewhere down the line, my ass._

He tries his best in practice, tries not to be distracted, tries to be his usual reliable self, but eventually Daichi calls for everyone to form one spiking line to let Suga take a break.

“Sorry,” Suga manages. _Sorry for hiding behind you again._

“It’s fine,” and Kageyama’s already setting the first ball, so Sugawara goes and sits on the bench and ignores Takeda-sensei’s concerned look.

**_Are you all right?_ **

Suga jumps in the air again, still not used to that voice. “Ah!”

**_Sorry._ **

“No, I’m not,” Suga murmurs, keeping his voice as low as possible. “You lied.”

He doesn’t ‘hear’ the Voice’s sigh so much as feel it. **_I did, but you asked me to._**

“I think I’d remember that,” Suga says, turning scarlet when Daichi looks over at him with his eyebrow raised.

 ** _I’m related to being a magical boy,_** the Voice says, dropping into what Suga can only describe as a teacher voice, **_so you would have lost all memory of me along with your others. That’s why it’s so difficult to talk to you and Sawamura-san. A broken bond is much more difficult to reach out over than one that doesn’t exist yet._**

“Why did I break it?” He can feel the Voice hesitating, and frowns. “ _Why?”_

 ** _I don’t think telling you that would be very productive,_** the Voice says.

“And I don’t think you want your boys putting together who you are,” Suga says, quiet as he can, “Takeda-sensei.”

 ** _I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s ridiculous. Why…_** He can hear the exact moment the Voice gives up. **_Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?_**

“It varies,” Suga says, looking over at Daichi and letting a smirk onto his face. “Daichi doesn’t approve of some of my methods.” Daichi is the ‘mean’ one when they don’t need subtlety, when they have two team members fighting and need to give them a swift kick in the pants. Sugawara is the sneaky one. In their first year, an upperclassman had cornered Asahi and scared Suga’s new friend half out of his mind, and found himself glued to his seat the next day. Suga had gotten away with it, too, because _oh, Sugawara Koushi wouldn’t do that, he’s always so polite to the teachers and he gets straight A’s._ (The look on Asahi’s face had been completely worth Daichi’s lecture.)

**_I’m almost certain you used to be better than this._ **

“I got older.”

The Voice sighs. **_Why don’t you go into the hallway. There’s no point in expending all this effort when you already know who I am._**

“Of course.” Suga keeps his face perfectly neutral as he gets up and leaves, waiting for Takeda-sensei to follow.

“How did you figure it out?” Takeda asks, leaning against the wall.

Suga lifts a shoulder. “I think it helps to have met you before I met ‘the Voice’.” He makes air quotes around the name.

Takeda laughs. “I suppose I should have been more careful. I thought that was a good cover…”

“How does this work, exactly?” Suga asks, trying to stay respectful (after basically blackmailing Takeda-sensei, respect seems more important than usual).

“Ah, it’s fairly complicated, but it comes down to all magic having a cost,” Takeda says. “Turning someone into a magical boy is an investment of sorts, and while technically, you _can_ give it up…”

“You forget it ever happened,” Suga says.

Takeda nods. “Teams, especially in smaller towns, are made up of pairs who are naturally suited to one another. The idea of losing one’s partner, someone who is often a close friend, is usually enough to keep magical boys from giving up.”

That seems like it should at _least_ raise some ethical concerns, but Takeda moves past it. “Sugawara-san, do you remember why you chose Karasuno?”

Suga frowns. “I…don’t know.” It’s an unsettling realization. “I just _really_ had to get into this school. I thought I might die if I didn’t.” Come to think of it, he’s rarely that obsessed with something.

“Because you and Sawamura-san promised to meet again,” Takeda says, smiling. “The specifics of what happens when a bond is broken are complicated, but essentially, you went to Karasuno because the last thing you were thinking about before you broke it involved Sawamura-kun.”

Sugawara feels his ears go red, and Takeda smiles again. “Hang in there,” he says. “Ready to go back to practice?”

Suga manages to be _marginally_ less distracted for the remainder of practice, and eats his meat bun, and heads home.

 

_“Happy birthday, Kazan.”_

_His partner looks up at him inquiringly, blinking in confusion at the neatly sealed envelope; Suga just waves it at him until he takes it. It takes him a full minute to carefully unseal it, and he pulls out the cheesiest Hallmark birthday card Suga could find and laughs._

_“Thanks.”_

_“No, open it,” Suga says, swatting him in mock irritation, and Kazan does. Inside is the punchline to the joke on the front of the card and a neatly handwritten “Sugawara Koushi”. (It had taken a solid hour and Googling a children’s kanji-tracing worksheet to turn Suga’s usual signature into something easily legible.)_

_“Oh.” Kazan looks up at him. “Your real name?”_

_“Mmhmm,” Suga says, smiling. “We’ve been fighting together for nearly a year. I thought you should have it.”_

_“Sugawara,” Kazan says thoughtfully, trying it out; Suga laughs._

_“It’s usually ‘Suga’,” he offers._

_“Suga.” Kazan smiles and extends a hand. “Sawamura Daichi.”_

_Suga takes his hand, smiling back._

_The moment is completely ruined when Daichi gives a surprised yell and fires over Suga’s head at a monster that snuck up when they weren’t looking, of course, but it’s still nice._

“Sugawara-kun.”

Suga hums in response, staring out the window and trying to keep ‘Kazan’ in his head.

“Sugawara-kun.”

“Suga,” Daichi whispers, nudging him, and that gets Suga to jump and look up at their teacher, who looks distinctly irritated.

“Sugawara-kun, can you please take over the reading?”

“Ah, yes, sir,” Suga says, looking at Daichi for help. Daichi sighs and silently passes Suga his book, tapping the paragraph, and Suga stumbles his way through it, holding it too close to his face to hide his blush at zoning out in the middle of class (and the poorly stifled laughter of his classmates).

“That’s enough, Sugawara-kun,” their teacher says after two paragraphs. “Sawamura-kun, you’re next.”

Suga sits down, gives Daichi his book back, and promptly zones out again.

 _‘Volcano’, huh._ If Takeda’s the one who named them, he has more of a sense of humor than Suga assumed.

He’s startled out of his daydreams by Hinata faceplanting against the window of their second-story classroom. He’s in the sparkly-shorts uniform that Suga recognizes instantly as an altered version of the Karasuno volleyball jersey, and he’s only there a few seconds before hopping onto the windowsill and calling something Suga can’t hear properly down.

“Oh, goodness, that poor bird,” the teacher says, glancing up. “He seems all right…are there any questions on the independent reading so far?”

 _Bird?_ Suga’s hand flies up at the same instant as Daichi’s. The teacher raises an eyebrow at their chorused “may we please be excused”, but lets them go, and they set off at a dead run.

“Asahi’s not in his classroom,” Suga reports, slowing down long enough to check.

Daichi mutters something under his breath, and Suga snickers. “Now, _Captain,_ don’t swear in front of the impressionable first-years.”

“They’re not here,” Daichi responds, taking the stairs two at a time. “Hurry up, Kiri.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Suga says, sliding down the banister (and earning the disapproving look of a passing faculty member). “They told us they handle this all the time.”

“Not in the _middle of classes,_ ” Daichi says. They _finally_ reach the door that leads out, in the general direction Hinata had come from, and they’re through it in a flash.

Nothing’s there except their four teammates, and a number of small fires that Hinata’s trying to put out. Nishinoya’s laughing, stamping out one that’s really just smoke, and Asahi looks like he might possibly pass out.

“Hey!” Daichi yells; everyone immediately turns toward them as they cross the last few meters to their teammates. “What happened?”

“Oh, Daichi-san!” Hinata jumps onto the last fire and waves. “Um…sorry about smashing into the window.”

“Your nose is bleeding,” Suga says, and Hinata blinks in confusion like he hasn’t even noticed, lifting his hand to his face and blinking again when he sees blood on his hand.

“Oh.”

“You dumbass,” Kageyama says (Suga has a hell of a time not losing it when he notices Kageyama’s shorts; they’re _poofy._ He has actual pumpkin pants instead of just the shortened, tightened version of regular volleyball shorts). He swats Hinata’s head. “Anyone would think you’d never fought before.”

“It’s different in the daytime!” Hinata protests. “And it was bigger than usual, too.”

Asahi is looking anywhere but at Hinata; he’s always been absolutely terrible with blood, or injuries in general, actually. He worries _every time_ Nishinoya collects a new bruise (at least a couple usually appear between one practice and the next). Suga decides it’s time to intervene. “Hinata, why don’t you go to the nurse to get your nose looked at?” Hinata slinks off, and Suga turns on the rest of them, scanning for injuries. Nishinoya has his usual bruises; Kageyama’s eye is a concerning purple color that he tries to cover when he sees Suga looking at it. Asahi’s the only one who seems totally unscathed.

“Kageyama,” Suga says. “Nurse.”

“I’m fine,” Kageyama says, looking directly at Suga (and giving Suga an excellent chance to assess his black eye). “We have to sweep the area. If monsters might be attacking the area, it’s our job to prevent them from succeeding.”

“Yeah,” Nishinoya says. “Our job. You’re not working without Taiyo…don’t argue with me, Yoru, I’ve _seen_ you fighting without Taiyo and you _suck._ Go make sure he’s okay. We’ll handle sweeping the area.”

Rarely has Suga regretted the no-captain-liberos rule more; Nishinoya is _good_ at getting people to follow him, as good as Daichi is. He just argues so fast the other person can’t get a word in edgewise. Kageyama sighs, but the next time Suga blinks, it’s the Kageyama he’s used to in front of him (and not the blue-haired poofy-shorts version). He nods and turns, jogging off in the direction Taiyo had gone.

Daichi opens his mouth, but a half-second after Nishinoya does (which is half a second too late). “Daichi-san I know you want to talk and probably lecture us for skipping class and I swear we’ll tell you all about this later but right now we _really_ have to go, come on, East, sorry Daichi-san, sorry Suga-san!” He and Asahi take off.

Daichi just stares after the rapidly disappearing pair. “That _did_ just happen, right?”

“That definitely just happened,” Suga says, nodding. “We should probably go back to class.”

“Two of my players are injured,” Daichi says flatly. “I’m going to go check on them. Kiri, you go back to class; _one_ member of the team needs to be there, at least, so the vice-principal doesn’t come down on us.”

Suga nods, and the two of them are halfway back to the school when something occurs to Suga.

“Daichi,” he says, stopping and waiting for Daichi to notice, “what’s my name?”

Daichi looks at him like he thinks his usually-reliable vice-captain has lost his mind. “Sugawara Koushi, except you hate your first name, so you let your friends use ‘Suga’. _Please_ don’t tell me you have amnesia.”

Suga blinks. “You called me Kiri.”

“Stop it,” Daichi says, shaking his head. “Today’s already too far outside ‘normal’ for one of your jokes, Suga.”

“I’m not joking,” Suga says, as gentle as he can, because the last thing they need is for their captain to lose it ahead of the Nekoma practice match.

Daichi frowns at him. “Why would I call you Kiri?”

“Do you remember,” Suga says, very carefully, “when we met, and I called you Daichi and spent five minutes apologizing before you told me I guessed right?”

“And Asahi spent the next year making jokes about how we were made for each other until Nishinoya joined,” Daichi says, nodding.

Suga waits.

Daichi stops and studies his face. “You’re serious, aren’t you. You’ve got your serious face.”

“I’m that obvious?” Suga asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Compared to Nishinoya? No,” Daichi says, grinning when Suga sticks out his lip in a pout. “Where are you going with this?”

Suga thinks about everything Daichi’s had to deal with in the last few weeks: players arguing, the vice-principal’s toupee, the 3v3, Nishinoya and Asahi’s fight…and now a new coach.

“Nowhere,” he says, giving Daichi his best, brightest, most Suga-ish smile. “Let’s go back.”

Daichi is important to Sugawara.

Apparently, Daichi is important enough that Daichi twisting his ankle because of Sugawara’s toss is literally a life-changing amnesia-causing event.

 _I’m vice-captain_ , Suga thinks, waving Daichi off as he heads to the nurse to check on their wayward first-years, _and it’s my job to make Daichi’s life easier._

Making Daichi’s life easier includes not stressing him out with something that was over and done with years ago.

 

_He’s all cried out._

_“You’re sure?” someone asks, stroking his hair and trying to flatten down the spot where it sticks up, the spot Suga twirls around his fingers and breaks off when he’s nervous that never gets the chance to grow as long as the rest. “It’s just a sprain, Kiri. I’ll be fine in a few weeks, really.”_

_“It’s my fault, though,” Suga murmurs. “You’re hurt.”_

_“Not badly.” The other voice gives up trying to flatten his hair, and he feels a kiss pressed to the place that sticks up. “And it isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have jumped.”_

_“You trusted my toss,” Suga says tiredly; they’ve been over this a thousand times in the last few days. “I can’t do this, Dai. I can’t even toss in practice anymore. I’m so afraid someone else is going to get hurt.”_

_Daichi (of_ course _it’s Daichi, he’d known that) just hugs him tighter, and Suga buries his face in Daichi’s uniform, trying to memorize this exact moment, keep it with him forever._

_“If you’re going,” Daichi says, trying to keep his voice steady, “I’m going with you.”_

_Suga jerks his head up at that, barely avoiding Daichi’s chin. “What?”_

_“Do you really think I’d want to stay without you?” Daichi asks, tilting his head down to meet Suga’s eyes. “You’re my partner.”_

_“Dai…”_

_“I’m being a little selfish, too,” Daichi says, smiling. “I don’t want to lose you.”_

_Suga lets one puppy-whine out of his throat, pressing his face back into Daichi’s shoulder._

_He can’t face the overwhelming worry anymore._

_But he can’t face losing Daichi, either._

_“I’m going to Karasuno,” Daichi says. “Karasuno High. Come find me. Don’t you dare leave me.”_

_“Trust me,” Suga manages, using Daichi’s shirt to blow his nose (Daichi won’t mind). “I’m the reliable one. Remember?”_

_“Always,” Daichi responds, and gathers Suga as close in as he can manage with his propped-up ankle. They stay there for what feels like forever, neither wanting to let the other go, before Suga takes a breath._

_“Don’t forget to wipe your message history,” he says, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Or it’ll be confusing when we meet up again.”_

_He sees Daichi tear up again at the ‘when’ and tries for a reassuring smile. “I love you.”_

_“I love you too,” Daichi says, “now go before I change my mind about letting you do this.”_

_Suga inhales, clasps his pin, and feels the transformation curl around him. He gives Daichi one last smile and jumps out the window, floating down, and runs and runs and doesn’t stop until he’s back at his own house._

_He has to do this, now, or he won’t ever do it. He lets the transformation drop, watching the fog bank roll away and dissipate, and clutches the pin until it digs into his palm._

Love you, Dai.

Suga wakes up sobbing his heart out into his pillow; he has no idea how long it takes to pull himself back together, to get to the point where he can sit up and check the time (4:26 a.m.) and scrub at his eyes and breathe steadily.

They were _dating._

This is _so much worse._

Past Sugawara and Past Daichi probably assumed that they’d start dating again, but they never had. They’d put up with Asahi’s jokes until Nishinoya joined the team, at which point Suga took every opportunity to exact revenge and Asahi had eased up a bit. They’d synced immediately, and Suga had learned to manage the choking fear that came over him whenever anyone (but especially Daichi) jumped for a toss.

And Daichi and Asahi had fallen into the habit of calling ‘Nice toss!’ when they landed, when they’d noticed the way Suga would set up the toss and then watch them like a hawk until he sees them come down. Suga had never been able to explain the sense of relief that came when someone’s knees bend and their feet land flat, absorbing the landing and racing to grab their ball, but Asahi and Daichi had just grinned and told him not to worry about it.

The fear had come back after the Dateko match, full force, and Suga had been beyond grateful when he found out Kageyama was joining, if only to give him a respite from the constant state of anxiety. Daichi went back to calling ‘Nice toss’, but it didn’t _help_ anymore.

Dating.

_Shit._

It’s not like this is a shit-I’m-gay moment, at least not for Suga, who can’t actually remember _ever_ having a shit-I’m-gay moment. It’s not even a shit-I’m-attracted-to-Daichi moment; in Suga’s opinion, anyone with functioning vision should be attracted to Daichi.

No, it’s just that Suga, previously, hadn’t been planning on _acting_ on the whole attracted-to-Daichi thing for a multitude of reasons (most prominently: captain relationship, the fact that they’re third years and don’t have _time_ , not knowing how Daichi would feel about it, and also, Michimiya Yui’s existence), except now not only is Daichi _also_ not straight, he’s attracted to Suga, or he was in middle school, and all those soulmate jokes were _right,_ apparently, and…

Suga rolls over and groans. He’s not getting back to sleep, he’s sure, and he isn’t even sure he wants to anyway, if it means more dream-memories. Might as well start his morning run a little early.

So he gets out of bed, tiptoeing as he collects his school things and leaves his backpack by the front door and tugs on his shoes. He’s careful to lock the house behind him, since no one else is awake yet.

 _Running again,_ Suga thinks, before _would it kill me to just take a run and not read anything else into it?_

Yes, apparently.

 

Hinata smacks into the window again; Suga winces at the _crack,_ but Hinata bounces up, eyes the newly-cracked outer glass, and mouths _sorry_ to him before giving someone (probably Kageyama) a thumbs-up and racing back.

 _Maybe Tsukishima has a point about how hard his head is,_ and Suga immediately feels bad for insulting Hinata, but that _is_ a pretty substantial crack. Hinata’s clearly as reckless when he fights as he is on the court.

He looks out the window, but from his distance, he can’t see much beyond an occasional splash of fire or a dark spot. He _does_ see a brief white flash, followed by a boom of thunder so close Suga thinks he might be deaf now.

“That’s strange,” their teacher murmurs, before “All right, let’s get back to work.”

Suga wants to go check on the first-years (he’s less worried about Asahi and Nishinoya), but he’s not sure they can get away with skipping class two days in a row. Daichi must have the same idea; he exchanges a glance with Suga, pulls a face, and shakes his head, going back to his worksheet.

 

Takeda pulls Suga aside as soon as he gets to the gym, leaving Daichi to warm up by himself.

“I think I know why you’re having trouble,” he starts. Suga’s learning to recognize their faculty advisor’s moods; this one’s the expression he gets when he’s excited. “You remember Hinata-kun’s restoration? During the three-on-three?”

Suga nods, and Takeda inhales a deep breath. “Normally, in an event like that, there’s a large amount of energy involved. New magical boys are often involved in life-or-death situations, either for themselves or for a friend, and the extra energy often gives them the means to blast their way through rather than take the time to learn how to use their power. However, since Hinata-kun was already a magical boy…”

“The energy didn’t have anywhere to go,” Suga finishes. He’s pretty sure he sees where this is going.

Takeda’s turn to nod. “Yes. If Azumane-kun and Noya-kun had been there, it most likely would have absorbed into them. As it is, I think Kageyama-kun probably attracted most of it. You and Sawamura-kun caught something of a magical backdraft.”

 _That’s a thing?_ Suga bites his tongue, hard, to stop the comment from coming out. _Ow._ Not his best idea.

Asahi pokes his head out. “Um, Suga-san, Daichi wants to know if you’ll be finished soon.”

 _Oops._ Right. Practice. Daichi’s probably waiting on him to start. “Tell him I’ll be back in a minute. Sorry, Asahi.”

Asahi shakes his head. “Please don’t worry about it.” He ducks back in, and Suga watches the door close.

“And, er, it might be my fault, too,” Takeda says once Asahi’s gone. “I’ve never tried talking to anyone with a broken bond using magic. I’m not certain what effect that would have on you.”

“Did you know we were dating?” Where is his _filter_ today?

…Probably somewhere in the two extra hours of sleep he didn’t get, and the _eight_ hours of actual _restful_ sleep he didn’t get.

“Of course,” Takeda says, smiling. “I suppose you wouldn’t remember, but I was the first one you told. I’d never seen you two so happy before, or since…”

“ _Sugawara Koushi I swear if you don’t get back inside right this instant I’m making Asahi vice-captain…”_ Daichi comes out of the gym and screeches to a halt. “Ah, sorry, Takeda-sensei.”

Suga _really_ hopes his hair is covering his burning ears. “Coming, Captain,” he replies, as lightly as he can manage, and ducks around Daichi to get through the door.

 

He tries.

Really, he does.

It’s just so _incredibly_ tiring to set when he’s a. back to being terrified that his spikers will land wrong and get hurt (knowing the cause doesn’t help; actually it’s making it worse), b. running on fumes and caffeine, and c. _still dealing with the whole used-to-be-dating-Daichi thing, that’s still a thing, has not stopped being a thing._

Nishinoya’s perfect receive bonks him on the head before he remembers to notice it and lift his hands in preparation to set, and he feels Daichi’s hand circle his wrist.

“Break time, vice-captain,” Daichi says, steering him to the bench.

“Daiiiiiichiiiiiiiiiii, I’m fine,” Suga complains.

“You just tried to set a ball _after_ it landed on top of your head.”

Suga can’t really argue that one.

Daichi reorganizes the spiking line, pulling Kageyama to set, and then jogs back once they’re moving again. “Did you sleep at _all_ last night?”

“It shows?” Suga asks, stifling a yawn.

“You have shadows under your eyes the size of Japan,” Daichi says, “and the last time I saw your reaction time that lagged was last year, when Ukai Senior was coaching us, after three hours straight of drills.”

Suga sticks his tongue out at that; Daichi just plops down on the bench beside him and offers a water bottle.

“So what is it?” he asks, raising one eyebrow. “Is it having another Coach Ukai?”

Suga laughs, snorting water out of his nose and spluttering for his breath back. _Not even close._

“It’s nothing,” he says, giving his best reassuring smile to Daichi. “Just the usual. The Inter-High’s soon…”

“We’ll win,” Daichi says. “This time’s different.”

 _Because we have a better setter,_ Suga thinks. _A setter who’s not too scared to do his job._

Right, that’ll make everything better, worrying about his ability in comparison to Kageyama’s. Again. Like he doesn’t have _enough problems._

“Go home.” Daichi stands and offers him a hand. “Get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to play. I can handle them without backup for one day.”

Suga opens his mouth to protest, and Daichi sighs. “Suga, I’m _perfectly capable_ of directing practice by myself. You can miss a day. Asahi and Noya missed a _month,_ and I didn’t kick _them_ out.”

Suga makes another face, but he gets up, and Daichi smiles. “That’s better. Do you need me to take you home?”

Nope, nope, _absolutely not,_ Suga shakes his head and exits before Daichi can insist. He doesn’t live far from Karasuno, thankfully, and manages the dash to his house without more than a skinned knee (that’s going to _sting_ in practice tomorrow).

Shower, dinner (he makes enough for his parents and leaves it in the fridge with a note), homework that he doesn’t pay much attention to, change into pajamas, bedtime.

Not that Suga actually _sleeps._

He winds up staring at his ceiling all night. Sleep is just a _minefield_ lately, and Suga doesn’t think he can take any more restored memories on top of the ones he already has.

When his alarm goes off, Suga groans, clicks it off, and rolls over to press his face into his pillow. Daichi’ll just send him home again if he shows up looking like this.

His phone buzzes, once, twice, and then from the speed they’re coming in, either Daichi’s learned to text a lot faster or the entire Karasuno Volleyball Club wants to know where he is. Suga fumbles until he hits the power button, and isn’t completely surprised when he hears the door open a half-hour later (he thinks; time is sort of refusing to behave the way he’s used to).

“Excuse the intrusion,” Daichi calls, and then “Suga?”

Suga decides the best response to this is to burrow under his blanket.

“Suuuugaaaaa…” He hears a knock at the door, hears the door opening, and hears his bedsprings creak as someone settles onto the corner of his mattress. “Come on, I know you’re under there.”

Suga crawls out enough to glare at Daichi, who lets out a soft breath at the sight of him. “You look _terrible._ ”

“Thanks,” Suga mutters, rubbing his eyes. Daichi just seems to have gone a little blurry.

“No, I mean it,” Daichi says, frowning. “Did you stay up again?”

“Maybe.” Suga tries to burrow back under the blanket, but Daichi just pulls it back. “And I slept last night.”

“Obviously not very well,” Daichi says, and when Suga doesn’t volunteer any more information, “Come on, Suga. Whatever this is, let me help.”

Oh, where does he even _start._

“Just want to sleep,” he mumbles instead of an actual answer, and he doesn’t even need to pull his puppy-face (everyone blames Nishinoya for teaching Hinata that, but for some reason, no one’s ever worked out who taught Nishinoya) for Daichi’s face to soften.

“Do you feel up to eating something?” Suga considers that; his stomach’s tied in knots, but he can’t tell if he’s hungry or nervous. Probably nervous. Is Daichi talking again?

“Kiriiiiii,” yes, definitely Daichi, “I said, I’m going to get you some water, all right?”

“You called me Kiri again.” He did _not_ mean to say that out loud, but Daichi stops in his tracks.

“I did,” he says, turning to look at Suga. “Does that have anything to do with why you’re not sleeping?”

“Kind of.” _Yes._

“Water,” Daichi says, “and then I’ll be back.” Suga nods, and Daichi’s back with a glass of water, complete with bendy straw that he must have found buried in Suga’s closet somewhere, and makes him sit up and drink it.

“I’m not _sick,_ ” Suga complains at one point, finishing the water.

“When was the last time you drank or ate anything?” Daichi folds a paper towel under the glass and sets it down on Suga’s nightstand.

“Dinner last night,” Suga says promptly. It’d been a proper meal, and everything.

“Suga, it’s nearly lunchtime,” Daichi says, looking at the clock.

“Oh.” It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

“Sick or not doesn’t really matter,” Daichi says, settling back on the edge of his bed. “You look like shit.” The language is rare, from him, and Suga quirks one eyebrow at him. “Worse than yesterday, and yesterday Hinata asked me if you were dying. Also, I think Noya and Tanaka convinced him you died, so if you could _please_ text him back at some point…”

Suga laughs, because that seems _hysterically_ funny in his current sleep-deprived state (to be fair, he might have tried the same thing in Noya and Tanaka’s place). “Sure,” he manages when he gets himself back under sort-of control.

“Now talk to me,” Daichi says, “and we’ll sort out whatever this is, and then you’re going to _sleep_.” Suga just whines at him and curls onto his side, and Daichi pokes at him. “Sugaaa…”

“You’re not leaving, are you,” Suga says, rolling over to shoot him a resentful glare.

“No, I’m not.” Daichi crosses his legs on top of Suga’s blanket and props his head on his hands.

Suga takes a breath to try and calm some of the stress making it hard for him to focus. He’s a third-year in high school, the vice-captain of his team, in a college preparatory class. He can explain this to Daichi calmly and rationally.

“We used to be magical boys in middle school,” he starts, and sees Daichi’s mouth make a little o-shape. “Remember when you sprained your ankle?”

“I remember it happening _before_ I met you,” Daichi says, frowning. “I tripped on a tree root. My coach was about ready to kill me when I came into practice on a crutch.”

Suga shakes his head. “We were out in the woods fighting. My set was off, and you jumped for it anyway, but you couldn’t compensate for me and watch your landing at the same time.”

“That’s why you’ve been watching us spike again lately?” Daichi asks. “You know a court and the woods aren’t…”

“Also we were dating.” Suga wants the words back as soon as they’re out, but it’s a little late now. Daichi’s mouth drops open so far Suga’s pretty sure an actual crow could fly into it.

“You’re sure?”

“I am absolutely positive.” Suga flips onto his back and gives Daichi his best I-am-serious stare.

Daichi looks as shell-shocked as Suga feels.

“…That’s a lot to deal with by yourself,” he says, finally, pulling the blanket back up around Suga’s shoulders. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I only got that one back yesterday,” Suga mutters.

“I don’t only mean that.” Daichi’s messing with Suga’s blanket, straightening out every tiny wrinkle he can find (given that Suga’s currently under it, he’s not succeeding). “I mean everything.”

Suga’s _so_ tired, he probably _could_ find a decent counterargument, but he’s exhausted, and all he can think to do is yawn and roll onto his side.

“Message received,” Daichi says, ruffling his hair. “Get some rest. I’ll bring your classwork over later.”

“Mmmmph,” Suga mumbles back. _Thanks._

 

Daichi’s still there when he wakes up the next morning.

He’s passed out on Suga’s floor, and someone’s shoved a pillow under his head and dropped a blanket on him, and he’s awake the instant Suga blinks his eyes open.

“Dai?” Suga rubs his eyes to make sure he’s not seeing things.

Daichi sits up and pulls a face. “You’ve been dealing with _that?_ ”

“What, sleeping on the floor?” Suga’s wide awake now, and he slips out of bed and turns on the light, making Daichi hiss and cover his eyes. He scans Daichi’s face, noting the shadows under his eyes. “Oh.”

 _“Please_ turn the light back off,” Daichi mutters. “It’s _painful.”_

“We have to go to school,” Suga says, pulling his blanket off and giving Daichi his favored _who-me_ grin that had gotten him through more than one prank (their history teacher second year had totally deserved the melted crayons on his lecture notes, and he’d left them in the sun, anyway, Suga had nothing to do with it). “Come on, Captain.”

“You’re terrible,” Daichi grumbles, but gets up, swaying on his feet. He looks as bad as Suga felt yesterday, and Suga takes pity and offers his shoulder for Daichi to lean on.

“My turn to run practice by myself,” Suga decides. “ _You’re_ going home and napping.”

“I can’t,” Daichi says. “Lodge today, remember?”

Oh.

Shit.

He’d totally forgotten about the lodge.

“I’ll come wake you up,” Suga promises. “I slept, I can cover practice.” He thanks the universe that they’re at least not both sleep-deprived and miserable at the same time. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

His turn to take care of Daichi.

Who really doesn’t _want_ to be taken care of, but he lets Suga stick a bowl of cereal in front of him and take him back to his house, muttering the whole way that he’s _fine_ and he can go to school and Suga worries too much. (In Suga’s opinion, just the act of whining about it proves that he is not, in fact, fine.) He has to run to get to practice.

“Suga-san!” Hinata waves at him as soon as he comes in the door. He’s balanced on Kageyama’s shoulders, tying the net; Nishinoya and Asahi are trying the same thing on the other side, with considerably more success (there’s just a lot more of Asahi to balance on).

“Hinata, get down, that’s dangerous.” Hinata pouts, but he hops off Kageyama’s shoulders, leaving the taller boy to swear and teeter off-balance, trying to adjust for the weight shift.

“Where’s Daichi-san?” Nishinoya asks as Asahi sets him down.

“Not feeling well.” Technically not a lie. “He’s resting.”

“Please don’t breathe on me,” Tsukishima calls, reaching and tying the net easily and smirking at the face Hinata makes.

“Who would?” Tanaka asks, wrinkling his nose.

Suga smiles, because at least this is normal. He can see the little shadows under Nishinoya’s and Asahi’s eyes; they must have patrolled last night.

Morning practice is short, and after school, Suga runs back to Daichi’s house.

“I’m coming in,” he calls, figuring that since Daichi came into _his_ house uninvited it’s fair to do the same to him. He finds Daichi’s room easily enough. “Daichi?”

Daichi just snores.

“Come on, time to get up.” Suga shakes his shoulder and clicks the light on. “We have to go to the lodge.”

Still no response; Suga shakes his shoulder again. “Daiiiiiiiichi. Daichi. Daichi. Wake up, Daichi.”

Daichi gives an abrupt shudder under his hand and sits up. “Uh. Oh. Suga?” he asks, stifling a yawn in his elbow.

“Did you sleep…” Suga trails off; he can see just from seeing the look on Daichi’s face that he did _not_ sleep well. He looks like someone’s dropped a bomb on him.

“Later,” Daichi mutters. “Lodge, right?” He’s out of bed before Suga can catch him, grabbing the bag he’s had packed since last week.

Suga follows behind him, knowing he’ll bring it up eventually, and once they’re out and heading back for Karasuno, Daichi looks sideways at him.

“I thought,” he starts, “maybe you’d misinterpreted something, or it was one of those middle-school crushes that doesn’t really go anywhere.”

Suga waits.

Daichi lets out a breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go smack some sense into my past self that badly.”

Suga snorts; he’s had the same opinion more than once over the last few days.

“We wound up at each other’s houses a lot, do you remember that?” Daichi asks. “Whoever was closer when we finished patrol. And as far as I can tell, we never had an actual date, as us, not as Kiri and…whoever I was.”

Literally a perfect opening for a pickup line, but Suga keeps his mouth shut. Timing, and all that.

“I don’t remember forgetting you,” Daichi says. “Or our last conversation. What happened?”

Suga sighs; he’d been expecting this one, but it doesn’t make it easier. “I’m a coward, is what happened.”

“Suga…”

“ _No,_ listen to me.” Suga looks up to meet Daichi’s eyes. “It’s because you hurt your ankle. I couldn’t handle the thought of you being injured because of me, and then I started worrying about it happening again. I was close to being kicked off my team in middle school. I was _scared,_ Dai, and I let you go.”

His capacity for being scared of little things and blurting out exactly why he’s scared to the nearest available person never ceases to amaze him. _If I had any sense, I’d be scared of_ telling _him that._

Daichi gives him a long look and nudges him with one shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”

Suga pulls the best unimpressed face he can manage.

“You remember our Dateko match, right?” Suga nods; _of course_ he remembers the Dateko match. “You blamed yourself then, too, and it was undeserved _then_ too, just so we’re clear on that. You’re nearly as bad as Asahi.”

“Take that back.”

“No.” Daichi dodges Suga’s swing and continues. “It’s _no one’s_ fault we lost; not mine, not yours, not Asahi’s, not Nishinoya’s, not Tanaka’s, not Narita’s, not Ennoshita’s. We lost as a team, because Dateko was better. Which I’ve gone over with you _and_ Asahi _and_ Nishinoya before.”

“So why are you going over it again?”

“Because I didn’t realize you had unresolved anxiety issues over me _spraining my ankle in middle school!”_

It’s the straw that breaks Suga’s scared, tired, nervous-wreck too-many-personal-revelations-in-one-goddamn-week back; he collapses into a fit of laughter that barely leaves him room to breathe, not even _trying_ to stop it. He hears Daichi saying something, but it doesn’t seem important. The entire world is just _really hilarious_ right now.

Daichi just waits him out, and when Suga finally stops laughing, offers him a hand. “Better?”

“Much,” Suga says, accepting the hand up and somehow managing to make Daichi teeter and fall over on top of him, sending them both to the sidewalk. “Daichi, I didn’t pull _that_ hard…”

“Sorry,” Daichi says beside him. “My balance is a little off.” Neither of them’s making a move to get up, other than Daichi’s roll to the side so that Suga can breathe.

“You know,” Suga says ( _please don’t let this make everything worse_ ), “you looked good in that uniform.”

Daichi snorts. “Please say I didn’t have pumpkin pants.”

“You didn’t have pumpkin pants,” but he can’t stop the little smirk at the memory of magical-Daichi.

“I did,” Daichi says, putting an arm over his face. “You’re attracted to men in _poofy shorts?_ ”

“No,” Suga says, letting his smirk grow, “I’m attracted to men who consider bright orange knee-high socks a good fashion choice.”

Daichi’s other arm goes over his face, and he groans. “You’re _joking._ ”

“Why would I joke?” Suga asks. “It went _wonderfully_ with your jersey.”

“At least _I_ didn’t have a mini-cape,” Daichi retorts, and okay, Suga can’t really argue that one, the mini-cape was pretty stupid-looking.

“I think it was supposed to be the club jacket,” he says thoughtfully.

“The club jacket looks _nothing like that.”_

Suga snickers. “Remind me to draw it for Ennoshita and suggest he change the uniform next year.”

Daichi laughs, and then there’s just silence. Suga’s about to suggest they get going before Ukai calls the police to report two missing students when Daichi talks again.

“Do you want to try again?”

“Eh?” Suga blinks at him.

“We used to date,” Daichi says (Suga loves him, but he has a _talent_ for stating the incredibly obvious.) “And it’s…a lot to take in, but I loved you. I think I want that back, if you…”

He doesn’t even get the entire sentence out before Suga catches him in a hug. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” Suga says, laughing. “Absolutely yes.”

They’ll never have what they had, but as the hug turns into a game of how-long-can-Suga-keep-Daichi-pinned, Suga thinks this is probably worth having, too.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm like 95% sure this AU was supposed to be silly crackfic at some point, and now my word document for it is over 30k words. Whoops.  
>  Also, endings continue to be The Actual Worst.  
> Thank you for reading my ridiculous AU!! <3 This one was really fun to write, and I hope y'all liked reading it!


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